Tell Me a Story

I've wondered more than once just when my son Brad developed his penchant for storytelling, and I've thought from time to time that perhaps his love of stories began when I was pregnant with him. You see, I was a relentless reader to his older brother, Matt ... I was a stay-at-home mom when Matt was a little guy, and we read and read and read. And I'm not just talking children's stories ... I read Shakespeare to Matt; I read Walker Percy to Matt; I read J.D. Salinger to Matt. I'm telling you, I did some serious reading to my firstborn, and I can't help but think that some of that reading transferred itself to Bradley when he was in the womb.

Brad would tell you that his gift of telling stories came from the first women in his life ... his mom and his granny. When Brad was young, whenever my mom would come to visit, she would tell Brad story after story at bedtime. Often, she would fall asleep in the middle of a story, and Brad would wake her and say, "Granny, finish the story." Brad has heard me tell stories his entire life, and I've even been known to write a tale or two from time to time. Wherever it came from and whenever it started, Brad has a love and a gift for telling stories ... especially a story from the heart that he can capture on film.

Yesterday, Brad and two other young men drove to Joplin, Missouri, to meet a producer and director from a large company in Los Angeles ... Brad's mentor in film who lives here in Kansas City was contacted about a very special project in Joplin, and he immediately thought of Brad. The company was looking for a director of photography who could truly tell the story of the destruction the town experienced a few weeks ago when it was devastated by one of the most powerful tornadoes on record, and of the tremendous need that now exists there. The footage that Brad is filming will be made into two television commercials to promote a huge benefit concert for the people of Joplin that is scheduled to take place in Kansas City later this summer.

Brad called me last night after he had spent the day scouting locations and planning shots with the folks from L.A., and I could hear the emotion in his voice as he described what he had seen that day ... destroyed homes and businesses, people's lives torn apart, devastation on a scale that he has never seen in his young life. I could hear the weight of the responsibility he felt to tell the people's story. I could hear the desire of his heart to treat this project with honor and respect. I could hear my little boy in his grown-up voice saying, "I'm going to tell a story, Mom ... a story like I've never told before."

Tomorrow, Brad will film interviews with people who live in Joplin, people who survived ... some with nothing more than the clothes they had on their backs on that fateful Sunday afternoon. Tomorrow, Brad will listen to stories ... stories that I'm certain will touch him, stories that will hurt his heart, stories that quite possibly will change his view of life forever. Tomorrow, Brad will hold a camera in his hands and hear those stories through his lens ... tomorrow, his eyes will focus on the people of Joplin,  and his heart will beat to tell their story.

I have no doubt that I will weep when I see the finished result of Brad's three days in Joplin. I have no doubt that this mother's heart will thank God for the gift He's given my son. Honor those folks well, Bradley ... honor them well.